


a real girl and all

by leiascully



Category: Firefly
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-07
Updated: 2007-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Make me a person."</p>
            </blockquote>





	a real girl and all

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: two years post-_Serenity_  
> A/N: Many thanks to [**asynca**](http://asynca.livejournal.com/) and [**sangria_lila**](http://sangria-lila.livejournal.com/) for giving me all the right things to say in Mandarin, and to [**luxemburger**](http://luxemburger.livejournal.com/) and [**queenzulu**](http://queenzulu.livejournal.com/) for readthroughs and nudging.  
> Disclaimer: _Firefly_ and all related characters belong to Joss Whedon.

River dances.

The lights from the infirmary gleam behind her, a halo flaring around her slender body. Her hair flies out and her eyes are bright and Inara can almost forget the broken look in River's eyes when she came on board, and in the times when her mind overwhelms her. When River dances, she doesn't look like any kind of assassin or psychic, and she's so sane these days it's strange to think that she's the same eerie child who woke up screaming and sick every night for most of a year. River's grown so much since Persephone, Ariel, Miranda. No more unnatural fascination with Simon, just a healthy rapport. No more moon-brained dependence. River's got stars in her eyes these days and a head full of coordinates instead of voices.

"There now, little albatross," Mal says. "Look at you, a real choreographer and all. Mighty fine pilot too. Quite an accomplishment for a girl not yet twenty."

"You done a fine thing, gettin' her out of that facility," Zoe says, smiling at Simon. Kaylee grins and snuggles closer to Simon, who slings his arm around her. River stands in the center of the room and beams.

"I'm proud of my little sister," he says.

"Did you like it?" River says to Kaylee. "That's my engagement present to you. My Kaylee-dance."

"I loved it!" Kaylee says, and Inara can't help smiling at the warmth of her. "Best present I ever got."

"What 'bout them apples?" Jayne says, all gruff and mock-hurt.

"Wait 'til your wedding!" River says, and Kaylee blows her a kiss.

"Well, folks," Mal says, stretching, "we certainly have had some classy entertainment this evening, but I for one am turning in. Got to rest up for tomorrow's thievin'." He chucks a candy to River, nods to Simon and Kaylee, and half-bows to Inara. There's a quick flicker of a grin and she knows she'll be seeing him later, when the ship is sailing quiet through the black. She stays up a little longer, drinking tea and teasing Kaylee, and it's like old times except there's no Shepherd and no Wash, just River glancing toward the bridge. Zoe starts telling stories and Inara laughs until her belly hurts.

"Too much, I swear," she says, and dabs a tear from the corner of her eye, and makes her excuses. She slips off to her shuttle, the homey little thing, and sits down at her vanity to wipe away the day. She wears less makeup these days and does less business verging on no business, but old habits die hard.

River comes to her, so quiet Inara doesn't notice until River speaks.

"Make me a person."

Inara startles in the midst of taking off her makeup and her mouth becomes a red smear across her cheek.

"What, _mei mei_?"

"Simon and Kaylee made me a sister. Mal made me a pilot." River stands almost awkward in the middle of the room. "Make me a person, Inara. I need to be a girl, not just a thing that moves and breathes."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"Everyone touches," River says wistfully. "Simon has Kaylee and there's you and Mal and when Zoe was with Wash, the whole ship felt it. Joyous. Connected." She wraps one arm around her stomach.

"How did you know about Mal?" Inara asks. They have been slow and quiet and cautious about whatever it is they have. "Though thinking on it I suppose that's a foolish question to ask a reader."

"He looks at you with his eyes like loving hands," River says. "He looks at you the way he looks when he flies. Serenity's a gladder place for it."

"I see," Inara says, tucking the thought away for later. "What exactly do you want to learn?"

"Not bedding," River says immediately. "Just how to be a person. Everybody's always holding and hugging and touching." She twirls a finger in her own curls. "And River never...I never touch, just look and know. It's a thing everyone understands but me. A person thing. I want to be a person. I can pay you if you need."

"Oh, _mei mei_," says Inara. "I'd be glad to teach you, but I won't take your money."

"What if..." says River, and it doesn't take a reader to see that she's thinking about when touching becomes _touching_. No other reason to come to a Companion when she could curl into Kaylee's side without any fuss.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Inara says, making her voice soothing. She rises slowly, puts a careful hand on River's shoulder. River twitches a little but doesn't pull away. "Come to me tomorrow during your free time and we'll see how to make a start."

River smiles.

Afterwards, Inara sits at her mirror stroking kohl from her eyes and thinking how lonely life must be without the whisper of fingers over skin. Not even a friendly pat or a shoulder to lean on for River, nothing but Simon's awkward brotherly hugs and now and again Kaylee's arm around her shoulders. Nothing intimate. Nothing that makes her more than a child, and River's not a child anymore.

Inara sighs and arranges the bits and bobs of her trousseau. Mal comes in with a puff of air and bends to kiss the back of her neck and she leans back and curls a hand around his arm.

"I swear," he breathes into her ear, "you are just prettier than a whole hold of cargo. Even without your fancy paint."

"You old flatterer," she says, and lets herself soak in his presence. He still kisses her like he's been waiting his whole life to do it. She can't remember how she got by without this before. She can't imagine never feeling this.

"Poor River," she says as Mal kisses her collarbones.

"Hey now," he mumbles into her shoulder. "Only two in this bed."

"Yes, Captain," she mocks, and tumbles him into the covers.

\+ + + +

River comes almost shyly into the shuttle, silent as always on her bare feet. Inara smiles and pours the tea. River sits the way Inara remembers birds: all light bones and nervous energy, ready to flick away at the slightest danger. So Inara talks about pointless things, redecorating the kitchen and River's new dress, and slowly River unwinds. She stops clutching her teacup and talks with her hands. She puts her feet on Inara's table, ten toes in a row like pearls. She'll paint those toes someday, Inara thinks, but slowly is the way to begin. She remembers the girls at her training house and their trusting faces as they leaned over her. River isn't meant for the same life but she needs the same kind of caution. She needs to be gentled into living.

"May I brush your hair?" Inara says after the fifth time River pushes back the flyaway curls with an impatient hand. "It was always something that Kaylee liked."

River blinks, a startled flicker of eyes. Inara is about to take it back, to propose instead one of the silly clapping rhymes, or that River brush her hair (control, it's always about control of the situation), and nevermind the hours it would take to untangle the curls, but then River nods. "Please. I'd like that." She almost seems to be reciting, but Inara will take the chance. She rises slowly, glides across the room, and finds her softest brush and a small bottle of oil. River settles on the floor and Inara slides onto the couch behind her, lifting River's hair with a gentle hand. It's clean, but it doesn't look as if it's been brushed in a while, no gloss and a lot of tiny tangles. Inara runs the brush through the ends, a little oil on the bristles to make things go smoothly.

"You have lovely hair," Inara says, making her voice low and musical and her hands slow and careful. "Did someone do this for you before? When you were a little girl?"

"My mother," River says in a murmur that sounds like she's falling asleep. "Sometimes. There was a maid, but she didn't touch. Scared of losing her job if she did too much. They told tales in the foyer about scandals in the house of lords. Mother said I was a big girl anyway, could brush my own hair. I had clever hands." River spreads her fingers.

"You still have," Inara reminds her. "Captain says he's never seen anyone take so easily to flying. Says you're a better pilot than he'd be if he studied it for a dozen years."

"He loves," River says, absently, "but he doesn't always listen."

Inara stifles a startled laugh and smooths the ends of River's hair. "You have quite a gift, _mei mei_."

River twists and smiles, bright as a sunrise. "Born that way. Didn't learn it like you. You read fine for a _pu tong ren_."

Inara blushes a little. "Oh, River, you're as human as any of us. Don't let anybody tell you elsewise." She draws the brush through River's hair, the wild ringlets smoothing into waves under bristles and fingers. It's easy to slip into this with River, this confidante-counselor role. It's easier to forget these days the weapon within the girl: River is a slim pistol worn at the hip, decorative but deadly. There are still moods sometimes, days when her eyes go wide and her fingertips press into her temples, but mostly she's a girl on the cusp of womanhood, bright and eager and loving.

"Getting there," River says thoughtfully. "Someday I will be." She wraps her arms around her shins and lays her cheek on her knee as Inara finishes with the brush. Inara twists a few curls a little tighter and lifts River's head gently so she can put River's hair up, careful with pins and plaits and bands. River holds her head steady, her neck straight and proud as a queen's.

"It's hard," River says frankly and suddenly. "It's hard to be a girl when you're too smart to be a child and too young to be a grownup. They took me and they kept me in that place and the little girl went away. Now I've got to be grown but somewhere the little girl is still hiding. Never had a chance to grow right. Never saw the sun." She stretches her arms up, graceful, and flexes her feet.

"Everybody feels like that sometimes," Inara says.

River studies her. "You grew up early."

"In a way," Inara tells her. "But being a Companion is a sheltered life. I didn't have to learn to cooperate with siblings or figure out how to rebel against my parents or build a relationship based on anything but first impressions. Sometimes I think it was too easy living in the Guild House with the other girls. I wanted the struggle. Much more romantic." She tips her head, smiling at the memory of the stubborn starry dreams that brought her here.

"And that's why you humped out to the ragged edge of the 'verse?" River asks with all that strange, knowing poetry that's in her. In her eyes there's the breathless anticipation of a child.

"Maybe so!" Inara laughs, and touches the nape of River's neck affectionately. River doesn't even twitch. "There. You look beautiful. Go and look in the mirror."

River stands, graceful as anything, and moves to the mirror. She catches her breath as she looks, drinking herself in. "That's me?"

"That's you," says Inara warmly, and puts away the brush. "Would you like some more tea?"

River doesn't quite dance out of the shuttle on her way to the bridge, but there's a skip in her step. Inara leans comfortably over the railing and looks out over the half-full cargo hold, thinking about how someone so competent in the cockpit, someone with a broader, more frightening education than any of them, could be so giddy over curls and braids. Brilliant, eerie River, denied the comforts and joys of youth. Inara smiles. Maybe at last she's got a worthy goal, gentling the Alliance out of a girl who's got enough in her head without government interference.

\+ + + +

Inara's ready the next time River comes. She's got the tea things set up and music cued on the Cortex along with a video of an old dance, one of the simpler ones.

"Were you ever taught the dances for the ballroom?" she asks as River steps over the threshold. "Some families start younger, so I wasn't sure."

"No," River says. "Just danced. Simon knows, but he had other people to practice with. Just watched."

"Well, let's fix that. Any girl of your age ought to be prepared for a ball. You never know when one might happen." River grins shyly. Inara flicks the music on. She takes River's hand and puts it on her shoulder. She cups River's other hand in one of hers and lets the other rest at River's slender waist. She expected River to shiver, but River's flank just flexes under her fingers, surprisingly strong, and River waits quietly.

"First you step back," Inara says, drawing River along. "Then to the side with this foot, then the other foot. Back, side, together. Back side together."

River takes to it perfectly, the way she took to piloting, the way she takes to almost everything: Inara hardly has to guide her. River just floats through the waltz. Inara teaches her a few flourishes and as many other steps as she can, but so many of the dances are figure dances, and even River's active fancy can't conjure up a roomful of people stepping in and out of formations and flirtations. At the Academy, Inara would have a flock of willing girls to join with them, moving through the old, old stars and squares and pinwheels of the formal dances, held over from back of beyond of history on Earth-That-Was. A different world in so many ways, Inara thinks, her steps small as precise, River's body arching prettily in her arms.

She doesn't need to count anymore, not with River moving in her arms as if she's been dancing these steps all her life, so instead Inara talks about the balls, the women in silk and satin and gloves to their elbows, the men dashing in well-cut suits. She thinks of Mal on Persephone, the perfect crook of his arm as he led her onto the dance floor and away from Atherton's jealous glare.

"Handsome man," River says dreamily. "He wore the gold for you, and you shone like a star."

"How foolish you must find us," Inara says, twirling River and blushing. "How much heartache we could have saved if we knew what you knew."

"No." River's expression is clear and solemn. "The heartache is worse knowing. I hear too much."

"I imagine that's true." Inara casts her eyes down and tries to think quietly as the song spins to a genteel flourish. The shuttle is quiet and warm. River's eyes and cheeks are bright. Suddenly she throws her arms around Inara's neck, a brief embrace that ends before Inara has a chance to raise her arms. A girl's gesture, purely sweet.

"Thank you," River says, formal again, a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. "I liked it. You dance like Serenity dances. Fixed points in dizzy space. It's no wonder they all love you."

"There's love and there's _love_, little albatross," Inara says, smoothing River's hair, surprised to feel Mal's words in her mouth.

"An interpretive dance by River Tam," River says, pirouetting away and then spinning back to Inara, her featherweight skirt flying around them both. Inara catches her and they both laugh.

"Why don't you go and show Kaylee in the cargo bay?" Inara suggests. "She never had a chance to learn either."

"_Hao zhu yi. Shu neng sheng qiao_," River says, with a sparkle in her eye like a naughty schoolgirl.

Inara leans on the railing later and watches them, waltzing to the quiet repetition of River's directions. River holds herself straight and proud, taking the man's part she didn't even learn, swishing Kaylee through the waltz like a florid gentleman trying to impress a debutante. Kaylee's laughter echoes sweetly through the hold. There are footsteps on the metal grid of the stairs: Mal's noisy boots, so she isn't startled when he touches the small of her back and puts an elbow down beside hers.

"Just look at you," he says, "stealin' away my pilot _and_ my mechanic with your wiles."

"Now, Captain, girls will be girls. You can't blame me for all the effervescent delight of youth."

"Even so," he says, but the corners of his lips are twitching up. "Well. There's no denying it's a joyful sight."

"One-two-three," says River, guiding Kaylee. "One-two-three."

\+ + + +

It's working, Inara knows. The taming of River Tam, she thinks privately (but then it's not so private when River's around, as if it mattered). Inara walks into the kitchen lounge one day to find River curled up to Kaylee as Kaylee regales Simon with some story about life planetside. In the next game of hoopball, it's River tussling with Zoe and Kaylee for the ball, knocking her elbow into Mal's ribs, perched on Jayne's shoulders. She drapes herself around Simon's shoulders when he's playing cards and musses his hand. She tickles Kaylee and Mal when they aren't paying attention at dinner. River flops down on Inara's bed and lays her head in Inara's lap as Inara strokes her hair. It's refreshing and sweet, as if River's regaining the delights of lost years and spending them all at once. Outside the black is as starry and chill as ever, but inside Serenity it's springtime.

"How do you choose your clients?" River asks, sprawled on her stomach on the floor tracing Kaylee's feet with mehndi.

"Oh," says Inara, "I suppose the same way you'd choose any lover. You look for a man or a woman with an honest way who's not afraid to meet your eye. Some of the Companions preferred more timid clients, but I always appreciated a steady gaze. People with confidence in themselves are always more attractive."

"Ain't it difficult?" Kaylee asks, her knees drawn up to her chest and her toes flexing as River works. "I mean, it ain't quite sight-unseen, but 'Nara, how can you be sure they're good just from a capture?"

"It is a subtle art," Inara admits. "I had a number of clients who turned out to be distasteful in one way or another. You get better at it with time. Of course it helps when they're attractive." Kaylee grins at that, and River fixes them both with a suspicious eye.

"How _lang man_," Kaylee says, starry-eyed. "All those fine, clean, rich men trying to court you, bowin' and kissin' your hand, and whisperin' all sorts of _tian yan mi yu_ in your ear."

"You can't tell me Simon's not a man for a compliment," Inara says, laughing.

"Oh, well," says Kaylee, blushing, "it's just that words ain't exactly his strong suit, if you know what I mean. And anyhow, he's just _one_ man, not a whole handsome flock like you had."

"Many waters," River says in a dire voice. "All that fire can't be quenched."

"There's a difference between love and lust," Inara says, aware of the slightly dreamy note in her voice as the memory of Mal's hands ghosts over her back. "I had some repeat clients, but never love. Some of them thought it was." She laughs softly. "A man in love will make all sorts of promises. Or a woman in love. It's a cautious thing."

"The coupling?" River asks, and puts her tongue between her teeth, her fingers curled firmly around Kaylee's twitching ankle.

"It's an important part of love," Inara says, "but it isn't the whole of it. We have an ability to effect a disconnect between physical and emotional enjoyment. Sex is a beautiful, pleasurable act and it can affect us on a profound emotional level, but the urge to have sex is also a biological imperative normal in any adult." She's sounding like the lecturers at the Academy and she knows it, but the girls are gazing at her saucer-eyed. "Everyone has to satisfy that imperative in some way. Companions provide a safe outlet for that natural feeling. There's also a certain guarantee of discretion and social awareness. A lot of different issues come into play when a client decides to engage the services of a Companion, or really when any individual seeks a lover."

"Gosh," Kaylee says. "Social factors. I just used to wink at a fella in the bar."

River giggles.

"There are a lot of ways to go about finding a lover," Inara says mock-reprovingly.

"Are you still going to?" River asks, rolling onto her hip. "Wheels within wheels, a Companion with a companion."

"I don't know," Inara says. "I could use the credits, but it doesn't satisfy me the way it used to. I suppose out here in the border worlds there are more important things than social standing and aristocratic parties. I mean, that wasn't all of it, but it was a lot of class concerns and maneuvering. In a way, things are more honest out here."

"A gentleman _and_ a thief," River says sagely.

"That's part of it too," Inara says. "Not all of it. You should never overturn your life just for the sake of a man, River, but there is a great deal of value in compromise."

River flings herself joyfully onto her back, a pale starfish of a girl against Inara's reinstalled carpet. "The cherry blossoms always fall."

"But the tree keeps growing." Inara sighs. "I'm sure we'll cross that bridge someday."

"This stuff tickles something awful," Kaylee complains. "River, can't you finish?"

"Could," River taunts her, sassy as a child, but then relents and traces over the end of the pattern.

"So what did you learn at the Academy?" Kaylee asks, her eyes wistful as she sits with her feet up and River puffs gentle breaths over the delicate tracery of henna.

"Oh, a thousand things." Inara's mouth twists up wryly with remembering. "Psychology and politics and anatomy and etiquette and seduction. Music and dancing and a little bit of cookery. Archery. A little unarmed self-defense but apparently not enough for these wild worlds. How to drink and how to pretend you're not drinking. How to unearth a man's _very_ deepest secrets with a little cleavage and a cup of tea."

"Not even a needle," River says, grumpy. "No fingers squishing around in your brain pan. I'd trade a lifetime for that."

"Well, _mei mei_, your method's a bit more surefire than mine," Inara reassures her.

"Musta been sweet," Kaylee says, "all that practicin' and playin' at lovers."

"I suppose it was," Inara muses. "I can't say we thought of it that way at the time, but there is something comforting about touch."

"Is...is there some special move?" Kaylee asks, blushing a little. "Not to say I...but maybe it would be nice...."

"Ah." Inara smiles to herself. "I suppose I could show you a few things without betraying the Guild."

"Oh!" says Kaylee, uncertainly. "I wouldn't want you to do any _betrayin'_, Inara."

"She's joking, silly," River says, patting Kaylee's knee with affectionate disdain. "It's not a _jian die_ game."

"There isn't really any special trick," Inara says, slipping back into the particular half-detachment of teaching. "It's all about proximity," she approaches Kaylee, kneeling at her side, "and about...anticipation." She uses the very tips of her fingers to smooth Kaylee's tousled hair behind her ear, letting the edges of her manicured nails graze Kaylee's earlobe. Kaylee's eyes are huge. "Just like that."

"Gosh," Kaylee breathes.

River watches, her eyes half-narrowed. She looks from Kaylee to Inara and back. "Hmmm," she says. She leans in, her lips a hairsbreadth from the corner of Kaylee's mouth. "Like this?"

Kaylee trembles, her eyes wide.

"Like that," Inara says.

River's fingertips whisper across Inara's cheekbone and down her throat to her collarbone. Inara holds very still, the backs of her fingers resting against Kaylee's neck. She can feel the flutter of Kaylee's pulse. River traces the hollow of Inara's clavicle, her breath still warm against Kaylee's cheek, all of them so close that Inara can feel it too. Kaylee's hand slides down to clasp River's.

"This is what lovers do?" River whispers. "_Na me qin, na me jin._"

"More," Inara says, resting her head against Kaylee's. She brushes her free hand down River's side: swell of small breast, ridges of ribs, curve of waist flattening into the inward slant of hipbone. River's built slim, more like a bird than a stream. A dancing girl moving through the stars. Her thighs are round and firm and tense as Inara drags a lazy, practiced palm over them. "More and more. But they save it for quiet times mostly. We can be very vulnerable to touch." She doesn't even have to tell River: besides the fact that River _knows_, she's sitting rapt as a cat, gazing at Inara with parted lips, her temple canted against Kaylee's. Their faces cast shadows over each other; their heads are so close that Inara can hardly focus. The swell of River's cheek looks like a pale apple kissed with sun.

"I think perhaps that's enough for that lesson for now," Inara says. "Kaylee, are your feet dry? I'll get the lemon and ghee." She and River sprinkle Kaylee's feet with the lemon juice and then play a card game while the mehndi dries again. River tries to peer at Kaylee's cards and Kaylee slaps her away, gently, laughing. They all help rubbing in the ghee with its oily buttery scent. Kaylee sighs happily as Inara teaches River how to give a proper massage, her fingers pressing into Kaylee's arches. River's serious about it for a moment and then runs her fingers quickly towards Kaylee's toes to make her shriek.

"That tickles!" Kaylee protests as they flake off the dried paste and leave behind the pale design. "But that's real pretty. Look at me, I look like a proper bride and all." She hugs them both, so enthusiastic that they're all laughing, just a pile of women on a plush carpet. Kaylee swears she'll never wear shoes until the pattern's gone and River tells her solemnly that she'll drop a wrench and break her toes if she does. Inara laughs at both of them as Kaylee chases River around the room, pausing to pull on slippers as River dashes out the door and towards the bridge.

"Thanks, Inara!" says Kaylee as she leaves, her hair flying. "You're awful sweet to us!"

"You're my girls!" Inara calls after her, the laughter still rounding her words.

Later she calls Mal to her shuttle and traces every scar and favorite place, makes him moan and sigh and swear until he's too far gone to even say a thing about wiles and ways and he just says her name in a string like a spun prayer wheel.

There are times she thinks about going back, all the little comforts she used to have, but not now with Mal warm and trusting against her. She isn't sure what she'll do when the money runs out, but she'll think about that when it's closer to happening. For now she's got a pupil and a purpose and even a lover. It _is_ a funny thing, a Companion with a companion, a woman who's been in a hundred beds blushing with love for the first time. She kisses the nape of Mal's neck, curling up close behind him. He murmurs and drags at her hand, kissing her wrist and pressing it to his chest. Inara can't help smiling into the dark.

\+ + + +

And in the end, River chooses Jayne. Not as suprising as all that, Inara supposes, given that there's rather a dearth of eligible men who are first, close, and second, not related to River or act as if they are (and Mal's an oddly tender father-figure). It's been a long few weeks but they finally pulled off a job, got paid and everything, and she's still safe for another little while before she has to have the conversation with Mal that neither of them want to have, about love and Companions and the heedless turning of a 'verse powered by credits. Tonight isn't that night: tonight's a celebration of a caper well-executed. They even managed to get some fresh produce on top of the deal. Jayne shoots something edible in the forest, and Mal's in such a good mood that he coaxes them all outside and builds a fire. Zoe ends up lighting it, of course, but Mal insists he could have done it himself, given the proper materials. The roasted beast is gamy but well-seasoned, the last of Book's legacy, and they arrange themselves around a rough slab of a folding table as Mal carves.

It's a long leisurely meal in the shadow of Serenity, all of them parked outside the cargo bay, the ship clean and airing out. Kaylee and River find enough flour and such to make some kind of gooey dessert that tastes better when it's toasted over the flames, and so they spend a good hour or two trying to keep the sticky squares balanced at the right height. Half of it goes straight into the fire; Mal can't seem to even get a bite from the pan to his mouth leaving out the toasting stage, so Inara feeds him with her fingers, laughing, and he licks at her palm, his eyes bright. They're all sugar-sticky, sugar-sweet, and the cool air is full of woodsmoke and the scent of burnt sugar. Serenity crouches over them like a nesting bird, her bulk a comfort, and oh, life is peace and ease for the first time in too long.

Jayne wipes his hands and pulls out the guitar. Inara can't remember seeing him play it since before Miranda, but when he sweeps his big hands across it, it's pretty well in tune. Jayne fiddles it into true harmony and bends over it. He plays a little bit and Inara leans against Mal, soaking in his warmth. Jayne eases to an end, staring off into the night, and crickets take up where he left off.

"That was real nice, Jayne," says Kaylee with that eternally endearing Kaylee charm.

"Yes, thank you," says Simon, awkward at her side.

"Mighty fine plucking," Mal agrees as Zoe stirs the fire. "Say, how 'bout some kinda encore?" Inara feels the flex of his side, but it's a little startling when Mal takes the guitar from Jayne and hands it to her.

"But," she starts.

"Hey now," he says. "A true Companion never stops practicing."

She thins her lips in mock-anger, giving him a glare that promises sweet retribution later, and takes the thing. "That was the dulcimer."

"Can't tell me you never picked up one of these," he says, unfazed, and nods at the easy way she settles it into her lap. "See there? Easiest thing in the world."

It is, all told, a lovely instrument. The curve of the wood is warm and sits perfectly over her thigh. She picks out the first bars of a lullaby, reminding her fingers what to do, and then strums her way into a reel. Kaylee claps along in time, and even Zoe's smiling when River jumps up and pulls Jayne to his feet. Jayne turns his head over his shoulder at first as if he's looking for the man behind him whose hand River's holding, but she tugs a bit and he lumbers up. He looks skeptical, all that muscle next to the slip of a barefoot girl who's got his hands, but River's clever. She pulls him into the music, makes him think he's leading, and Jayne turns out to have a little grace in him after all. Inara supposes he must have always had: muscle like that takes effort and control and Jayne doesn't stint when it comes to himself. But River turns him from a hulk into a man. Nothing near the fancy gentlemen Inara's known on other, richer worlds, but Jayne's holding his own, following River's cues and adding a little flair of his own as he twirls her. River floats in his arms, looking up at him, a real girl and all, and Jayne takes on that familiar look Inara's seen a thousand times before, a man drowning in his own sudden wonder.

"There it is," she murmurs to Mal.

"There what is?" he mumbles back, leaning into her neck.

She nods at his pilot and his mercenary shuffling through the firelight. "Complications."

"Life's just full of 'em," he says, dusting his hands on his thighs. "Can't hardly be helped. _Ai shi yige mei ge ren you de bing_," he adds in the melodramatic voice of a doe-eyed suitor, as if he's ever been such a thing in his dusty, tight-trousered, crime-ridden life.

She shoots him a look. "Well," he amends, "some surely do suffer more than others. Me, I take my ease." His eyes are full of laughter. She shushes him and riddles out a complicated section of the music. River looks like a blossom and Jayne the branch upon which she grows. Simon is leading Kaylee through the steps of one of the more formal dances. Inara gives Mal a nudge and he shifts from her side and offers his arm to Zoe, who eyes him skeptically but lets him swing her into the circle. Inara sings a little, as many of the words as she can remember to any song that suits the rhythm of the reel. River guides Jayne through a square figure with Simon and Kaylee, her hair flying loose and Jayne's eyes always on her. Inara grins and leans back against Serenity. Funny how the whole thing feels homey. No one ever told her border life could be so fine.

When she stops playing, her hands ache and sting from the steel of the strings. Mal takes her hand in his and kisses the tips of her fingers as he sets the guitar aside. His lips are a little chapped, and a crust of sugar on his mouth crumbles against her fingernail.

"Never meant to cause you pain," he says.

"I know," she says. "It's no matter. I have some salve that will help the swelling." Jayne picks up the guitar and shows it to River, his arms around her as he positions her fingers on the strings. Kaylee and Simon have disappeared off somewhere in the manner, Inara thinks fondly, of young lovers throughout time. Zoe banks the fire and gathers up the pans from the dessert.

"Good night, folk," she says, and is gone like a shadow.

"You're not bad hurt?" Mal asks, all earnest eyes looking up at her.

"I'll be fine," she says, rubbing the back of one finger across his rough chin.

"Sure?" he says. The fine creases at his eyes are a map of old injuries and new hopes.

"Sure."

"Well then," he says, still cradling her hand. "By way of apology, Miz Serra, may I have this dance?"

They both have a lot of things to apologize for, but he swings her into his arms like nothing matters except this cobbled-together moment in the fresh night air under another foreign sky. There's no real music, just Mal's humming and River's awkward chords and the crickets and the shuffle of their feet, but that's enough when love's singing in her ears.

\+ + + +

River dances, and she's not dancing alone.

\+ + + +

_Hao zhu yi. Shu neng sheng qiao_ \- good suggestion. practice makes perfect  
_tian yan mi yu_ \- compliments, pretty phrases  
_Na me qin, na me jin_ \- so close, so sweet  
_Ai shi yige mei ge ren you de bing_ \- love is a disease everyone suffers


End file.
